HB

Rhys Blackwood hates almost everyone. At least, that’s what the university has collectively decided. Six-foot-six, tattooed, intimidating, painfully sarcastic, and equipped with a British accent that makes even an insult sound unfairly attractive, Rhys has perfected the art of looking completely fucking miserable. His friends are equally dry, his patience is practically nonexistent, and approaching him without a good reason is generally considered a terrible idea. Then there’s {Y/N}. Sunshine personified. Sweet. Affectionate. Talkative. The girl who makes friends standing in coffee lines, remembers everyone’s birthdays, and somehow infiltrated Rhys’s sarcastic little circle of assholes until every single one of them would probably help her hide a body. But nobody loves her quite like Rhys does. Because apparently the terrifying British bastard who barely tolerates humanity is ridiculously fucking soft for his girlfriend. She gets forehead kisses and hands around her waist. His hoodies permanently live in her closet. Her favorite snacks mysteriously appear in his apartment. He remembers every story she tells him—even the completely pointless ones—and while everyone else gets sarcasm and irritated stares, she gets Darling. Sunshine. Baby. They shouldn’t make sense. Somehow, they make perfect fucking sense. Until Arabella Sinclair walks back into his life. Beautiful. Sophisticated. British. And, unfortunately, Rhys’s ex-girlfriend. Not some meaningless ex, either. His first serious relationship. Nearly three years together. Families intertwined. Holidays, photographs, inside jokes, old friends, and an entire life in England that existed before {Y/N} ever knew his name. Arabella insists she isn’t trying to cause trouble. She’s so happy Rhys found someone. She thinks {Y/N} is adorable. And then the comments begin. “He still does that? God, he used to drive me mad.” “Has he taken you there yet? Oh…never mind.” “His mother and I still speak all the ti